


Four Times Robin Should Have Listened to Marian (And one time he did)

by serendipityxxi



Category: Robin Hood (2006), Robin Hood (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-02-26
Updated: 2012-02-26
Packaged: 2017-10-31 18:41:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,018
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/347222
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/serendipityxxi/pseuds/serendipityxxi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What it says on the tin</p>
            </blockquote>





	Four Times Robin Should Have Listened to Marian (And one time he did)

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: Disclaimed

 

**One**

Robin is eleven and already thinks of himself as Lord of the manor while Marian is nine and already wiser than he will ever hope to be. They are both at Nottingham castle as their fathers have business there that day. Robin comes in with a miniature catapult and a pocketful of pebbles that are leaving a trail behind him through the hole they’ve worn.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.” Marian remarks from her perch on one of the window sills, legs crossed primly at the ankles, hair in two neat French braids tied off with blue and white ribbons.

Robin looks over his shoulder from where he’s setting up his armoury on the sill of the window next to her own and rolls his eyes.  
“Why not? Going to tell on me?”

Marian huffs and slips off her seat. “If you don’t listen, you’ll find out why.” She calls over her shoulder.

Robin sets up his catapult and shoots pebbles at the guards who unknown to him are parading around below for his father, the sheriff, several visiting Lords and receives a sound spanking when he gets home.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

**Two**

“Robin...” Marian murmurs trying her hardest for a scolding tone and landing much closer to a moan. The eighteen year old in question is peppering her face and neck with kisses that both tickle and arouse, not at all bothered by her false scolding. “We really shouldn’t be doing this, here.” She points out breathily against his ear. They are in Robin’s stable, supposedly seeing to her horses while her father pays a call on his.

Robin pulls back to flash her that cheeky grin of his that makes her want alternately to clout him upside the head or kiss him senseless.

Apparently Robin reads her warring desires and makes the decision for her, capturing her lips in a smooth kiss. His lips slide against hers like warm satin, soft pressure turns into a deeper demand. She can feel his tongue tracing her lips, begging entrance. Marian moves and nips gently at his lower lip startling a groan from the young Lord of Locksley. He slides a wiry muscled thigh between her own and before Marian can recover her senses to remind him what she said about not doing this here, there is the sound of a throat being cleared. The young lovers split apart to find equally disapproving frowns on both their father’s faces.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

**Three**

“Why do you have to go?” Marian demanded, eyes flashing with the ire of a summer storm. “Why you personally when there are so many other young lords willing to go and die for their king and a ridiculous war no one knows why we’re fighting in the holy land?!”

“Marian, I have to go.” Robin pleaded, trying to be reasonable. “It would be dishonourable to stay here, safe while my king risks life and limb for this country.”

“Your king? Robin, do you even know what he looks like?” Marian scoffed.

Robin is twenty, his head is full of dreams of glory and victory. Marian is eighteen and much more pragmatic, she is aware of the growing feeling of unsettlement in the country around them. She has seen the already thin shoulders of their people grown gaunt with hard work and not enough food. Robin and his title are important to their little world, he can keep order where her father is beginning to lose his hold.

Many months later a battle weary Robin lies on the hot sands of the holy land, feeling his hot blood pump out between his fingers. His last thought before the blackness takes him is “Marian was right.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

**Four**

Robin returns home to a Locksley that is much changed, to a Nottingham that is completely upside down. Marian tells him, begs him: work within the system, you can do more good from the inside than out. Robin has learned many things in the years since last they met, unfortunately respect for authority and the meaning of the word ‘subtle’ still elude him.

It is only when tongues are being cut from his people’s heads that Robin realizes exactly how far out of control things have spun. He and Much sit beside a small fire in Sherwood Forest, cold and hungry while the rain leaks through the shelter they’ve hastily constructed to drip down the back of Robin’s shirt. In the Holy land Robin desperately missed his rainy country, and for the first few hours it had been nice. He’s discovered however it is impossible to sleep while being rained on, and it’s even harder to sleep when he is so keenly aware that the hunger and fear and uncertainty he feels is lodged in the pit of every single person in his village.

“Should’ve listened to Lady Marian,” Much grumbles, poking the fire glumly.

Robin cannot disagree.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

**And one time he did**

 

“Say it!” Marian teases, eyes twinkling.

“Marian...” Robin grumbles although he is twinkling right back.

“Say it! My plan worked!”

“What? Find Lardner, bring the King home, defeat the Sherriff and get married? That’s hardly a plan Marian, more like an outline.”

“An outline that worked,” she points out, trying on a smug grin of her own.

Robin sighs in a very put upon way, twining his arms around Marian’s waist, tugging her to him. “I suppose I’ll have to concede that point when it’s gotten us here.”

“And that maybe you should listen to me more often?” Marian asks, knowing she’s more likely to see him kissing his horse than agreeing to that and not really minding right now, right now Robin is warm, solid and safe and she’s too full of good spirits from the wine and the dancing and finally, finally, having her home back.

“Maybe I should.” Robin surprises her by agreeing. His eyes are serious and Marian thinks maybe he might mean it. “

“Well, in that case,” she grins coyly, twining her arms around his neck. “May I suggest you kiss the bride Robin of Locksley.”

Robin lights up, “Now that’s a good plan.”


End file.
